Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Run Away and Chase the Moon

Run Away and Chase the Moon

Dear Griffin,

In general I think that reality tv has a lot to answer for. And reality tv where there's a competition involved, well you might as well wave a big red Boro flag at me and ask me to pretend to be a bull. Being only human, a pretty face (not to mention some snazzy clothing) will always help but when it comes down to it I'm a sucker for some talent and a dollop of charisma, something which you demonstrated in abundance during your time on the ice. And the outfits! How was any musical-theatre loving girl to resist?

What? This isn't a blog-letter to John Barrowman? Griffin? Who? Oh, him. He was on Pop Idol wasn't he?

Seriously, Griffin, I don't know if this is going to become an annual event (writing a blog letter to you, rather than pretending you were on Pop Idol when we all know it was X-Factor) but somehow it seemed right to continue the trend this year. I realised about a month ago that the anniversary of my last blog-letter - not to mention the You & Me [Tonight] release - was coming up. And I knew that I wanted to write again, maybe only as a record of the last year and its changes. Though I know that as a big fan of DA you'll have been counting down the days.

Certainly we've seen a lot less of each other - literally in a 'you've kept your trousers on' and 'I've kept my breasts covered' type way - in the past 12 months. And in general the whole experience is much more hazy than it used to be - largely it floats in and out of memory (though some things, I confess, are as painfully vivid as they were at the time). But it does seem ridiculous that it's two years ago this week that we bought you the paddling pool. I hope you're saving that - and the leeks - for your memoirs. I think they make good stories.

I'm not sure how much concrete stuff there is for me to look back on. Because I was worried for a while. Worried that 'working on the second album' was a euphemism for playing golf. And I'm sure that there's nothing wrong with playing golf - other than the fact that it spoils a good walk - but this is me. I love aspiration. And I wasn't quite ready to give up on you. Because - heck - I believed. And for reasons that I can't quite quantify I still believe in you as much as I did the night of that final. Do you think I'm stuck with this for life? Because it's an odd one.

So I was incredibly chuffed at the last three gigs of yours that I've been to when the new material started slipping out. Because I really loved it. Even the second verses. Though - please - bring back 'Why?' which I possibly adore most of all (as a side point I desperately want to know what it's about). You know what struck me most about the new songs? That they were noticeably different from those that had come before. And that's what made me most excited.

Away from the songs and to the general Griffin circus I think I feel a lot easier with it now than I did 12 months ago - though I still can't begin to imagine how you feel about it. Maybe because I don't feel so much part of it anymore it doesn't drive me as insane as it used to. I'm not saying that I don't cringe or get annoyed or get crotchety - because I do. And I still feel sorry at times for some of the things that I think we inadvertently caused. And I'd really like you to know that. But I can't help but smile at the thought of you playing the impromptu second set at the Melbourne last year. I can't express just how much it meant to see you do that, to see that you felt that you could, even after everything.

I like to think that in the last six months or so I've learnt a little bit more about you as a person [though, really, Mr Darcy...] and you've learnt that I don't have a small child. I wondered for a while when I was writing Four Chords why I felt so compelled to write it, was it - I feared - going to turn into some horrendous love letter to you. It didn't - and I'm sure you'll be (almost) as glad as I was - but maybe it's a love letter to the whole situation, to everything I think you represent. Because I know that in some respects you've come to represent all of the reasons why I decided that I had to have a shot at writing. I've got huge admiration for the fact that you're still - well - here.

Again I've no idea what kind of blog-letter I'll be writing you (or John Barrowman) or what will happen in the next year. Who knows, I might even take you up on your offer to star in one of my plays (maybe I should have tested your acting ability before I caved in and said yes). But - wherever you will go? Oh, yes. And hopefully it'll be somewhere we can dance in front of the stage.

love Corinne. x

PS. You'll never beat Al Griffin.

PPS. Obviously not counting pub quizes.

PPPS. We're all in the gutter just some of us are looking at the stars.

PPPPS. From a phonebooth in Vegas...

3 comments:

Val said...

Just clicking back to last year, I notice you refer to replacing him with a younger model - ahem! I think John is a teeny bit older than Griffin!
Seriously though, this 'anniversary' has been running through my head as well today, as one of those milestones on the journey. Things had already changed a lot a year ago, and have changed even more since, so I wonder where the next year will take us - and him.
Thanks, as always, for the memories :-)

Jude said...

God, is it really two years? I remember it rained buckets and when I finally got to speak to Griffin, he threatened to throw up on me. What I find strange now though, is that, at the time it all seemed perfectly normal, and not even slightly odd that you should be presenting someone with a plastic paddling pool...
Please don't ever stop believing!:)

Anonymous said...

I loved the paddling pool- Griffin can we have that back, it is a bit less slippy than the fountain - seriously.

Be yourself don't hide
Just believe in destiny